


When I was Done Dying

by chancellor_valdez



Category: Queen of the South (TV)
Genre: F/M, Future Fic, implied Pote/Kelly Ann
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-26 12:32:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15663291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chancellor_valdez/pseuds/chancellor_valdez
Summary: “It’s been a year now,” she whispered.“I know, Teresita.”“It’s so… weird. That he’s been gone that long.”He doesn’t know how to respond to that so he doesn’t and they continue in silence, the ghost of their friend hanging over their heads. When he finally goes to leave he thinks he hears her whisper, “I wonder what he’s doing.” But he decides to let it go this time.





	When I was Done Dying

She still hadn’t recovered from the grief. He could see it in her eyes every time he tried to make her smile. Like she was caught hallway between the present and somewhere else. Sometimes she’d still turn to talk to someone that wasn’t there before she could catch herself. Then she’d deflate and get that lost look on her face. And because she was Teresa she’d shake it off before anyone else could notice. But he’d see it, hiding just beneath her skin. The loneliness.

He had tried to prevent this, seen it coming and tried to keep her from getting in too deep, but when you care you care. And those two cared.

Sure, he had been there when Guero died, he had witnessed first had the pain and isolation she put herself through, but this was different. Part of him thinks that Teresa had already moved on from her life with Guero by the time he died. In some way, she had already grieved his absence, but James…

She wasn’t ready for James to go. He wondered if part of her thought he’d be there forever. “I’m not leaving.” That was their thing wasn’t it? They always came back, they never left each other, but he did and she couldn’t process that he wasn’t around anymore. Even if she hadn’t decided to love him, he’d been there since the beginning - whether either of them liked it or not. He’d refused to go time and time again. To rely and believe in someone that much and then have them ripped away. He didn’t know how much more loss she could take before she truly broke. Behind that tough façade he could still tell parts of her were starting to fall away. No one should have to fight that hard for that long to earn nothing, but more struggles.

When Guero went she lashed out, she threw herself into work, she didn’t sleep. But this time, it was different. This time she was just… sad.

She still slept in his room, or rather their room; she hadn’t used her own in months. Sometimes he’d go to the kitchen for a snack in the middle of the night and hear her talking, to him. It was quiet. Always so quiet. Just her soft whisper talking to a ghost. “I still miss you. It shouldn’t have to be this way. It wasn’t supposed to. I just hate it. I hate it so much.” Sometimes she’d cry and he’d resist the urge to go comfort her. She needed this. These quiet moments in the dark to let herself feel that heartbreak and that cold spot on the bed.

So he’d continue to the kitchen and back to his room and pretend he never heard those soft whispers.

 

It took 3 months for her to start to shake it. To lose the vacant stares, to stop searching the room for one more person. The loneliness was still there, just behind her composed demeanor, but she was better. She was getting there.

She jumped back into work, although maybe with less reckless behavior then before. Probably still hearing James’s voice in the back of her head telling her not to get herself killed. The product kept coming and she kept selling and they got the job done despite the missing piece of their team.

 

It took 6 months for her to hire another gunman. He tried not to push her, but eventually he had to tell her she needed closer protection. He wasn’t going to be enough for forever and people were starting to realize that. 

He could tell she didn’t want to, but she did. Some young kid with a cocky smile and a decent shot. He wasn’t James though. Even Pote could feel that. He may have given James a hard time at the beginning – or most of the time – but that didn’t mean he didn’t miss him too. You spend enough time with someone in this business and they grow on you. But that’s just it. This business didn’t allow for much time. 

He really thought he’d go before James. All the talks about dying for her and protecting her, but when it came down to it, he wasn’t really surprised it was James. He’d even told her as much so long ago. “He would die for you.” He always did have a knack for stupid heroics.

 

A year after, he found her sitting on the balcony staring out into the night. She was quiet, almost content when he joined her in the silence. 

“It’s been a year now,” she whispered. 

“I know, Teresita.” 

“It’s so… weird. That he’s been gone that long.”

He doesn’t know how to respond to that so he doesn’t and they continue in silence, the ghost of their friend hanging over their heads. When he finally goes to leave he thinks he hears her whisper, “I wonder what he’s doing.” But he decides to let it go this time.

 

Two years later he can tell the grief is in the past, but she still hasn’t moved on. Self confident boys with 5 o’clock shadows and burly entitled men always try for a bit of the Queen’s attention. They never get it. It’s obvious that spots still reserved for someone else. No matter how hard they try or how lonely she might still be at night, no one ever shares that bed. Not their bed. 

But that doesn’t seem to bother her too much. 

The job gets done and the product gets moved. 

 

Two years, four months, and 17 days after James died, she goes too. He knows deep down he shouldn’t be surprised. People have been trying to do this for years. It had to happen one day. But it’s still his fault. He had promised to protect her. Always. And he didn’t. He couldn’t. And now she was gone.

He had cried. Oh how he had cried. And Kelly Ann had held him and spilled her own tears. It was over that quickly. The business, the life they’d built, Teresa. All the work and struggle and loss over the years all amounting to a sniper shot through a window. Gone that quick. And he couldn’t do a damn thing. 

 

It’s exactly 3 years to the day of James’s passing that he gets it. Just an ordinary day, in an ordinary house when he sifts through the stack of mail on their table. There’s nothing particularly interesting until he comes to a small bent post card. Who would send him a fucking post card?

It’s when he turns it over that he freezes, and then smiles.

In retrospect he should’ve seen it coming. It was the perfect plan. Of course that’s how it went.

There on the back, in small delicate scrawl is written, “Still family.” And it’s all he needs to know. To feel the weight of months on top of months of grief suddenly lift away from his shoulders in a laugh. He calls for Kelly Ann to join him. Yeah, maybe things will be okay.

 

Across the globe, on a small beach in Spain a woman stands with her feet in the sand, facing the ocean. Nobody really pays her much attention; she doesn’t give them reason to. She just smiles and lets the breeze lift her dark hair around her shoulders. This is what she deserves. 

The Spanish beach, the clear air, no threat of death right around the corner. After fighting for so long, this is the life she chooses. The freedom she chooses. 

Then, a man comes up behind her, clad in all black despite the warm weather, aviator sunglasses perched on his face like always. He might stick out a little bit. He wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her close, whispering into her ear and smiling. They seem happy. 

Anyone could see that. See the way her face lights up, the way his softens. They might even see the way his fingers softly run across her stomach. But they’re just two people enjoying a day at the beach.


End file.
